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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24748222">A Bouquet of Lavender</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodofSmut/pseuds/TheGodofSmut'>TheGodofSmut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: White Knight (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Attempted Murder, Bottom Joker (DCU), Comfort/Angst, Dehumanization, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Doctor/Patient, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Feels, First Kiss, Heavy Angst, Joker (DCU) Angst, Language of Flowers, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Torture, Medical Trauma, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Neck Kissing, Physical Abuse, Pining Joker (DCU), Rape/Non-con Elements, Rehabilitation, Resurrected Jason Todd, Sexual Abuse, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Symbolism, Therapy, Top Bruce Wayne, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:55:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24748222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodofSmut/pseuds/TheGodofSmut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fed up with the horrible conditions and abusive staff from Arkham Asylum, Bruce Wayne sets out to improve every patient's worst nightmares using his wealthy status as an advantage. He's even made a special recovery plan for the Joker himself, but what happens when the doctor starts to fall for his patient?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joker (DCU) &amp; Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne, Pamela Isley &amp; Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Seed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Golden rays of sunshine poured through the abysmal, dust-covered windows of the old apartment. The spidery web of cracks that ran through the glass distorted the reflections of the drab environment. Flying around were small moths, their delicate wings fluttering rapidly as they circled the room. Shadows of sunlight stretched across the shabby carpeted floor, passing over the sleeping body of the Joker. He was hunched over the old wooden desk where he planned his next big schemes to get Batman's attention, the face that usually contorted into a menacing grin now relaxed as his cheek pressed against the wooden surface. A trail of spit coming from his mouth formed a small puddle on the desk and the bleak room filled with the sounds of snoring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A stray moth left the rest of its group in favor of the Joker’s lamp. It lingered around the clown for a few moments and decided to rest on his face. Its feathery legs tickled his skin and he chuckled in his sleep, softly at first. His laughter became more frequent and louder as the moth walked across his face until he startled himself awake. Then he waved his hand around to shoo the moth away. The Joker sat up straight, stretching his arms out and cracking his neck. He stood and let out a yawn, scratching his head as he ambled toward the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. While he waited for his coffee to brew, he decided he might as well check his mailbox. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly walking down three flights of stairs, the Joker was in no rush to get his morning started. He was reluctant to start the day, if he was being honest with himself. He had begun to lose his flair over the last few weeks, failing to find satisfying ways to gain the attention of the Bat. He had spent ten hours last night to work on his latest plan, hoping desperately that it wouldn’t fail like the others. Nothing was allowed to distract him or ruin the process, that’s why he had to leave Harley Quinn, so he could be alone. It had to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Joker gnashed his teeth in frustration over the thought of it and stomped toward the apartment mailboxes. He impatiently fumbled with his keys and unlocked his box, grabbing everything inside and going back to his apartment. As he walked down the hallway, he passed by his neighbor Ms. Wilson, a sweet old lady who lost her husband to lung cancer and became a widow. She usually woke up around this time to get her mail and take her Pomeranian out for a morning walk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice to see you leaving your apartment for once, Jack,” she said endearingly. “Growing boys like you need some sun once in a while. Just look at how pale your skin is!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Joker put on a reassuring smile, but the cold gleam in his mismatched eyes betrayed it. Ms. Wilson was too blind to see it, however. “Thanks but it’s an incurable skin condition.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nonsense! I have some unused skin care products that you can borrow,” she said, taking the clown’s hand and leading him to her apartment. The Joker was silent as he followed her, occasionally looking around as they walked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Wilson unlocked her door and it opened with a gradual creak. She smiled humbly at the Joker when he didn’t move and said, “Don’t be shy, come in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes and stepped inside, shutting the door and locking the top and bottom locks. He clasped his hands together and turned to Ms. Wilson. “So what goodies do you have for me, Granny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me go to my bedroom so I can get them,” she answered as she turned around and hobbled toward her room. When she left, the Joker sat on her couch and crossed one long, slender leg over the other. As he waited, Ms. Wilson’s Pomeranian approached him and gave a low growl, folding its ears back. The Joker looked down at it, his green and purple eyes staring wide and without emotion. The dog’s growls shifted into whimpers and it backed away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Wilson returned to the living room holding a wicker basket filled with lotions, body butter, and facial masks. She held the basket up in front of her and smiled warmly. “Here you go, Jack.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Joker shifted his gaze to the old woman and slowly stood up, accepting her gift. A split second later, he lunged toward her without a sound. A sickening crack came from her neck and she slumped to the floor, her Pomeranian sitting beside her and whining with grief. The Joker took out a crumpled sticky note and a pen from his pocket and hastily scribbled the number 9. He placed it on top of the old woman’s body and squealed giddily as he did a brief jig. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaving Ms. Wilson’s apartment, he gently swung the basket to and fro and he whistled a tune on his way back to his apartment. He held up the basket and looked at the bottle with admiration. It’s just a shame that he had to knock off poor Ms. Wilson. He genuinely enjoyed their brief conversations in the hallway. But she was distracting him, and he can’t have any distractions right now. Not when he’s so close to finishing his plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Joker unlocked his door and went inside, placing the basket down on the small coffee table in the living room. The distinctive scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the apartment and he hurried to the kitchen to turn off the coffee maker. The Joker inhaled the aroma as he poured himself a cup of black coffee, grabbed today’s newspaper, and went to sit down at his desk. As he looked over his notes, he took a sip from his mug. He began to chuckle as he skimmed through and moved them aside for the newspaper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and took another sip, resting his cheek against his pale, bony knuckles as his mismatched eyes scanned the newspaper. His hands began to tremble as his eyes glanced over the headline and the picture, spilling coffee onto the desk. The papers crinkled as his fingers curled tightly and he ripped the newspaper in half, throwing it onto the floor. “She did </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?!” </span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bought a date with Bruce Wayne at an auction show!” Harley Quinn exclaimed with a proud grin as she dropped a bag loaded with jewelry onto the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Harley, how much shit do you have there?” Poison Ivy asked, taking a moment to look away from her yellow rose bushes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, I lost count after fifty,” Harley answered as she opened the bag and sifted through it, tossing out several necklaces and bracelets. “Just look at these, Red! And he bought them all with </span>
  <em>
    <span>cash! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You could take half of it if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, no thanks, Harls,” Ivy declined politely. “I don’t really see a reason to have jewelry, you know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is true, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> you could have some of these, eh?” Harley held up a handful of gold rings. “They’ve got little gems in the shape of flowers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivy couldn’t help but smile and shrugged. She left her garden and walked toward Harley, kneeling down in front of the bag of jewelry. “Ah, what the hell, I’ll take some.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the spirit!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Ivy went through the bag with Harley, she asked, “So, how’s living alone going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s going </span>
  <em>
    <span>great,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> replied Harley. “I’ve been able to do whatever I wanted since the Joker left. He would </span>
  <em>
    <span>flip</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he found out that I bought Netflix. Says it’s not worth paying thirteen dollars per month.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” Ivy chuckled. Her expression turned more serious and she looked up at Harley. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> live here with me, you know. So you’re not alone all the time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, that’s really sweet of you, Red,” Harley cooed. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said, giving a bittersweet grin. It didn’t last for more than a couple seconds. “Listen, Harley. I need to talk to you about something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can tell me anything, Red.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivy took a deep breath in and made contact with Harley’s baby blue eyes. “I’m leaving Gotham tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why?” Harley whined, her face drooping into a pout. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been tracking a corporation called Octane and I’ve dug up some real dirt on them,” she said, standing up to grab a thick file packed with papers from her desk. “Turns out those capitalist pigs are dumping toxic waste into the Amazon River, not to mention the massive deforestation within the river basin that they’re funding. They have slaves working in privately-funded plantations in South America.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you gonna do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to Brazil to liberate the ecosystem and its inhabitants of the chains of Octane. This is the first step, Harley. The humans must realize that capitalism is not the American dream. If I have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>make </span>
  </em>
  <span>them realize it, then so be it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Red, I’m glad that you’re doing this but how long will you be gone?” Harley asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hard to say. The Amazon is still a very large rainforest despite how much we’ve lost to fires and deforestation. It might take a week, it might take a month.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s spirits plummeted upon hearing the last sentence. “You’ll keep in touch with me, at least?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivy wrapped her arms around Harley and held her close, stroking her platinum blonde hair. “Of course, Harley. You should get back home, though. I need to start packing for my trip.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay,” Harley groaned. “Wait, what if Bats follows you to South America?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll manage,” Ivy answered with a reassuring smirk. She led Harley outside and left a tender kiss on her cheek. “Go, Harley. I’ll be back soon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley was reluctant to leave but knowing that Ivy had everything under control placed some confidence within her. Still, she worried. It was inevitable that Batman would follow Ivy to Brazil to stop her from reaching her endgame, fueled by his strict moral code and self-righteous justice. If only he could see </span>
  <em>
    <span>the truth:</span>
  </em>
  <span> that there are some people worth being murdered. Harley should know. She’d spent almost a decade with the Joker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Harley strolled down the street, she came across a crumpled can of cola and absentmindedly kicked it as she walked. She kept her eyes solely on the can, sighing repeatedly with despair. Distant voices from across the street caught her attention but she didn’t react until she heard a woman’s voice desperately pleading for help. A group of three rugged men cornered a young woman in a nearby alleyway, gradually closing in and trapping her against a dull brick wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please leave me alone, I’ll give you everything that I have on me!” she begged, instinctively pressing her back against the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the men snickered, a short yet stocky man with stubble covering his round, tanned face. He stepped closer toward her and planted the palm of his hand firmly on the wall. “We don’t want your money, dollface.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley clenched her teeth with anger and her blood boiled with disgust. She could feel the bile rise in the back of her throat and it burned with hatred. Pulling her metal bat out, she stormed behind the men and raised her bat over her head. “Hey, shitheads! Get your dirty paws away from her!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, it’s Harley Quinn!” he yelled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right, fuckers!” she shouted as she swung her bat at the man’s head, the loud thud of metal hitting bone echoing through the air. He stumbled to the ground and she hit him again in the face. An audible crack came from his jaw and a bloody tooth flew out of his mouth. She whipped her head toward the two other men, giving them a malicious grin. “Which one of you is next?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The men scrambled over each other as they ran away down the street. Harley smirked as she watched them disappear and looked at their friend, who was lying on the ground and clutching his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You fucking whore, I’m gonna-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she spat, firmly pressing her foot against the side of his head. “I’ll fuck you up so hard you won’t be able to recognize yourself in the mirror, you pissbaby!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re insane!” he cried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re a sexual predator!” she growled, stomping on his head. “I don’t have time to deal with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley looked to the frightened woman and gave a friendly wave. “You alright, ma’am?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman was silent from shock but she gave a delicate nod in response. She hesitated a moment before leaving, her legs trembling as she walked away. Harley looked on with a sense of fondness before casting her gaze upon the wretched man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you gonna do to me?” His voice quivered as he spoke, genuine fear gleaming in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her expression was indifferent, her crimson lips compressed into nothing more than a scowl. “I’m gonna leave you here for Batman.” </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bruce Wayne was a phenomenal man, taking lengths to emphasize the </span>
  <em>
    <span>extra</span>
  </em>
  <span> in extraordinary. If you knew him as the person he was, you’d learn not to overlook his accomplishments as Bruce Wayne, however small and insignificant they may seem when compared to Batman’s. Being a philanthropist is good for the public image but one needed to prove that they were deserving of the title, and that’s what Bruce Wayne did when he’s not assuming the mantle of Batman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charity events and donations weren’t enough to give Gotham City the help it needed to fight the veins of corruption that ran through the heart of it. There had to be direct action against the sickness, there had to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>cure</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Simply giving it placebos was already proving to be detrimental to the health of the city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce Wayne was the cure, or rather, the gateway to the cure. Being the orphaned son of a wealthy, aristocratic family had its benefits in the political arena. Gotham City’s politicians were more than eager to listen to anything that Bruce had to say, especially if what he had to say brought them good publicity or money. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three months ago, Bruce Wayne proposed a bill to the Gotham City Council and Mayor Aubrey James that would improve Arkham Asylum’s interior structure. The institution was running rampant with medical malpractice and abuse from the staff. The proposal was a means to tackle the injustices and provide a more hospitable environment for the inmates of Arkham Asylum. Studying Sweden's prison system, Bruce Wayne formed the hypothesis that if the inmates were given humane conditions, they would be more receptive to recovery. Of course, the council members and the mayor were hesitant to listen to Bruce Wayne’s proposal for the first few weeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we improve the environment for those degenerates at Arkham Asylum, they’ll become too comfortable and confident,” councilman Rick Torrence announced on Gotham News on the fifth day. “We have the upper hand here, folks. If we have to keep the filth of our city too weak and scared to terrorize us, then that's what we'll do. We simply cannot risk putting the public into even more danger."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crime rate percentages were at an all-time high right before Bruce proposed his idea to the council. He needed the mayor and council to see that his idea was worth the time and effort to be invested in, for the good of the public and for Arkham Asylum. He decided to run an independent experiment in Arkham to gather supporting data that will convince the council. It would be at least a year before his experiment was a success. He would need help from a handful of his closest friends to achieve his goal. On the tenth day, Bruce called in his family and filled them in about what he was planning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, you want us to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> now?” Jason Todd had demanded incredulously, almost certain that his jaw would have dropped onto the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to cover for me,” Bruce Wayne answered as he spun his chair around to face his adopted children. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we heard you, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>why?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dick Grayson added, crossing his arms over his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m working on an experiment in Arkham Asylum. It is absolutely imperative to my efforts that I leave Batman out of this for once,” said Bruce. “He would only do more harm than good for the patients’ recoveries.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, so lemme guess where this is headed,” Jason sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You thought you could just stroll into Arkham Asylum based on a hunch that reforming everything will help cure </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of our archenemies? Gimme a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking-” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master Jason! Watch your language,” Alfred Pennyworth scolded. Jason responded with only a curt roll of his eyes and Alfred motioned for Bruce to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a hunch,” Bruce insisted as he brought numerous articles about Sweden onto his computer screen. “It’s scientific evidence.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scientific evidence or not, these criminals are nothing like the ones that are everywhere else,” Barbara Gordon interjected. “A rehabilitation plan for a criminal like Edward Nygma would drastically be different than a rehabilitation plan for a criminal in Sweden.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because no one has ever given anyone like Edward Nygma the benefit of a doubt!” shouted Bruce, his voice a little bit louder and his tone a little bit angrier than he cared to admit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce, are you okay?” asked Tim Drake, looking at his mentor with concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I... I’m fine, I... Look, you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to support me during the experiment, but I need someone to watch over the city while I’m busy,” he replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Jason could open his mouth to object again, Dick said, “Of course. Just... don’t forget that not everybody can be saved, especially if they don’t want to be saved.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Bruce sighed, as though he had thought about it a hundred times over. “I’m going to have a talk with Leslie Thompkins about the experiment tomorrow. Hopefully, with her experience in therapy and the fact that she runs a clinic, she and I could work together on this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do that, old man,” Jason said as he left without so much as a goodbye. Dick, Tim, and Barbara were more polite in their departure, each giving Bruce a brief hug. Then he was left alone with Alfred and his thoughts. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Deracinate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Do you think this is the place that Poison Ivy broke into?” Tim asked as he and Jason cautiously roamed through the dark facility, sweeping their flashlights across the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bruce said this was where she was spotted earlier,” Jason answered as his eyes darted around for any clues. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would Ivy need from an old storage warehouse?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This facility is mostly used for dumping unwanted files. See those shelves over there?” Jason pointed to a group of metal shelves that were lined against the faded walls. On each shelf, there were clusters of files that were packed tightly into dusty cardboard boxes. Each box was left open and forgotten, stacked on top of each other like building blocks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I guess we’re supposed to find what she was looking for then?” Tim asked unenthusiastically, placing his hands on his hips as he looked around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason sighed, feeling sympathetic toward Tim’s indifferent attitude. “Yeah, it looks that way. Come on, we’d better get started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The duo began at opposite ends of the shelves, gradually working their way to the middle as they opened boxes and thoroughly searched each file folder. They made two separate piles for each one they discovered: Important and Insignificant. They continued like this for an hour, frequently looking up to talk to each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been finding a lot of files about Octane,” said Jason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Me, too,” replied Tim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So... how are your college classes going?” asked Jason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, they’re alright.” Tim shrugged. “I thought that taking Forensic Science would be fun but... I dunno. I guess I’m more used to the way that I solve crimes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s completely understandable, man. You’re being introduced to all the stuff that you already know how to do and it’s messing you up. You don’t know which method to follow because you’re learning it all over.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. How about you?” Tim asked, looking up with a slight smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you doing? You’ve been really on edge ever since a few months ago and I was worried that-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno what the others have been telling you but I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a terrible liar, Jason. Tell me what’s going on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason huffed and slumped against the cold stone wall. “I don’t understand why the old man is going through this much trouble for a handful of criminals. I mean, where the fuck was this level of concern when the Joker nearly beat me to death with a crowbar? Where the fuck was he when I was on the brink of death and had to crawl my way out of a pile of rubble? How could he show more empathy for a group of </span>
  <em>
    <span>murderers</span>
  </em>
  <span> than his own goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>son?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim stopped what he was doing and knelt down beside him, gently placing his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Jason, you must have known that he was searching endlessly for you. He was turning the city upside-down during his search. He was quite literally at his breaking point. Dick and Barbara had to hold him back from going to the extreme.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why didn’t he come find me?” Jason demanded, his eyes welling up with tears that he didn’t allow to fall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He thought that you would hate him, that you wouldn’t forgive him for failing you. In a way, I suppose he did fail you. He failed to be a better father figure towards you and it’s been consuming him for years. Even now, he still feels guilty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, I just…” Jason’s voice trailed off as he searched for the right words to say. “I just wish that he would care about us more than the villains.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does care about us more, but you have to realize that he also cares about </span>
  <em>
    <span>them,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> said Tim. “Don’t you remember how distraught he was when Harvey Dent was turned into Two-Face? Or when Tommy Elliot became Hush? He has to watch his own friends become villains and he wants to </span>
  <em>
    <span>help</span>
  </em>
  <span> them, Jason. He wanted to help them but he didn’t know how until a few months ago.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I suppose that makes sense. Come on, let’s find the damn file already before I start bawling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, seeing that we’re getting to nowhere right now, I say we should check the security footage,” said Tim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? I didn’t think that warehouses had security cameras.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost a decade ago, the city demanded for CCTV systems to be installed in every warehouse and storage facility,” Tim replied as he helped Jason stand up. “We should be able to tap into this week’s footage with the help of the security officer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s go check that out then,” Jason said as he got to his feet. He let Tim lead the way to the surveillance room, occasionally giving a passing glance around him. Tim knocked on the door and, upon not hearing anything from inside, tested the doorknob. It was unlocked. A strong, pungent smell wafted around their noses when he opened the door and they discovered the mangled body of the security guard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The poor man was left in an agonizing position, his body littered with rotting holes as thick vines protruded out of his flesh. They coiled around the man’s throat so tightly that his face was tinted blue and his eyes looked as though they would pop out of their sockets. It was clear that the man had died from asphyxiation before he had the chance to bleed to death. His office was a complete mess, papers strewn about across the desk and floor along with the shattered pieces of a coffee mug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit, if she was here first, she might have screwed with the video footage!” growled Jason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, everything seems to be intact. I don’t see any sign of evidence tampering,” Tim said as he examined the computer. “I think she only cared about the guard. She must’ve figured that with him out of the way, it wouldn’t matter to her if the cameras were on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you find the footage?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, just give me a few minutes to backtrack.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason grunted in response, a sign for Tim to go ahead and find what they were looking for. He rewinded the week’s footage on each camera, briefly scanning the computer screen for Ivy’s presence. He thoroughly searched multiple cameras before he spotted Ivy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There! She was at Row 27,” Tim said as he pointed at the screen. The tip of his finger was rested upon a white sign that read 27 in bold, red numbers. “Let’s go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what kind of files do you think she stole?” Jason asked as they left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s an educated guess but I think it has something to do with pollution and whatnot,” replied Tim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does seem likely, but what would those types of files be doing at a warehouse? Wouldn’t they be kept somewhere more private?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I thought, too, but then I noticed something. You know how every file that we’ve read had the Octane logo on it? Well, this warehouse must be owned by them! That’s why the files are so Octane-specific!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this warehouse is like a dumping ground for incriminating evidence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim nodded. “It would look that way if not for the fact that Octane is one of the top three richest corporations in the world.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you’re saying that Octane is so rich that they could buy their way out of their own mess?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. Maybe Bruce could add it to his list of philanthropic things to do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason chuckled. “Two multi-billion dollar CEOs duking it out in the middle of Wall Street? Talk about the fight of a century.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, it’d be more like a very intense game of chess involving their companies.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The duo arrived at Row 27 and resumed their search, opening boxes and looking through each file for missing papers. It wasn’t long before Tim found it, eagerly approaching Jason and presenting the file. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe that this is the file Ivy found, Jason,” he said as he flipped through its content. “There are pages that are missing. Why didn’t Ivy just take the whole file with her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t need the other stuff.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we found what we came here for. We should give this to Bruce. Maybe he can track down the missing pages and submit them to the FBI! We could put them out of business and -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you remember? Bruce is busy with Dr. Thompkins in their weird little experiment,” said Jason. “And besides, the FBI won’t do shit for us. They never do shit for people like us...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I suppose you’re right...” Tim mumbled sullenly as they left. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harley Quinn laid on her side as she watched television, her legs stretched out among the cushions and her head rested upon the palm of her hand. In that moment, she felt as though she were a noblewoman waiting for her portrait to be painted, laying on an extravagant sofa surrounded by lush throw pillows and all of her riches. Her daydream was put to an abrupt end when she heard the main door of the hideout open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She got to her foot and reached for her baseball bat, holding it above her shoulders in striking position. She stalked toward the source of the noise, hugging close to the walls for cover. She could hear them moving just around the corner. She readjusted her grip on the bat’s handle and jumped out, sideswiping the bat at her intruder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Harley! Watch where you’re swinging that thing!” the Joker announced with a playful chuckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley lowered her baseball bat and scowled. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you idiot? I could’ve bashed your brains out like a damn piñata!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well hello to you, too, toots,” he said, rattling his head side to side. Then he pushed past her and went to the living room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you doing here? I thought that I was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>distraction </span>
  </em>
  <span>to you,” Harley said in a scornfully mocking tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you are definitely a distraction. To be honest, I was hoping you wouldn’t be home when I decided to stop by,” he replied as he overturned the couch cushions and looked underneath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what the fuck do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m looking for my pistol. Do you know where I left my pistol? It’s the one with the comically long barrel and it shoots a Bang! sign. A true classic, really.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know where your stupid pistol is,” Harley grumbled as she grabbed the Joker’s arm and pulled him along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, watch the suit!” he said as he tugged his arm away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gimme a fucking break, that suit is ten years old and covered in holes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my fault that we accidentally killed my tailor Giuseppe last year! Although... now that I think about it, I think we did that on purpose,” he giggled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley slowly shook her head in disappointment and led him to the bedroom where they used to sleep together. She opened the dresser drawer and pulled the Joker’s pistol out. “Here, now beat it. I’m missing my TV show.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, my dear! You’ve been a real help,” the Joker replied with a devious smile as he took his gun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” she muttered as she turned to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, by the way, Harley - I have a favor to ask of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffed and turned around to look at him. “What now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley felt the sensation of cold metal pressing against her skin and she looked down to find the barrel of the Joker’s pistol. Her eyes trailed down the length of the barrel, up his arm, and saw the crazed yet desperate gleam in his mismatched eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept for a couple days. Unattractive bags hung underneath his eyes, which were more bloodshot than they usually were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay in your lane, my dear,” he said after what seemed like an eternity of tense silence. The only thing that Harley heard after that was her own heartbeat thumping in her mind as the seconds ticked down. Her abdomen felt as if someone poured boiling oil over the wound and she hit the floor, clutching at her bleeding stomach. Her hands were smeared with her own blood and the last thing that she saw while her vision faded away was a bloodstained sticky note that had the number 12 written on it. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sprouting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Now remember, Bruce - you will only speak to them about ways to improve their environment and mental health. You will not mention anything about past crimes or, God forbid, Batman,” Leslie Thompkins said as she organized a set of papers that were laid out on her desk. Bruce Wayne stood beside her, watching over her shoulder as she flipped through each document. He noticed that these particular papers were about Edward Nygma. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What will you be doing?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned to look at Bruce. “I’m going to wait for you here. I’m sorry but I can’t come with you. Dr. Leland will be accompanying you, so listen to her as much as the patient, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce nodded to show his understanding and a guard approached them, holding his assault rifle at rest. His nametag was engraved with white letters that spelled Lee. “We’ve got the prisoner ready for you in the interview room, Mr. Wayne.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, but please call them patients. It’s a lot less dehumanizing,” Bruce replied as he followed Lee to where Edward was and the guard locked the door after they went inside. Dr. Leland was already there, sitting across from Edward. The guard tapped on the glass and peered into the small reinforced window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have fifteen minutes, got it?” Lee asked, not waiting for a response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edward gazed up at Bruce with his usual slick grin, though the tired look on his face gave the impression that his cocky attitude was gradually wearing down. “My my, is that Bruce Wayne? So, you got bored of sitting in your office at the top of Wayne Enterprises everyday and have decided to come down to our level. I’ll be sure to make this first impression </span>
  <em>
    <span>memorable</span>
  </em>
  <span> for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe that you already have, Mr. Nygma,” Bruce replied with a confident smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Leland interjected before Edward could open his mouth. “Mr. Wayne is here to listen to any grievances from your experience. He’s working to make your lives more comfortable and healthy for your recovery.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edward shook his head and broke into a fit of cynical laughter. “It’s amusing that you believe throwing money at the problem will solve it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funding Arkham Asylum isn’t my only goal. I know that money alone won’t do much to fix your circumstances,” said Bruce. “I need you to let me help you, Edward. None of you deserve to be treated like this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just like the rest of them,” Edward snarled. “All you billionaires do is make empty promises for change and bask in the limelight and go home to your billion dollar mansion with your butler while we have to live in the filth of this </span>
  <em>
    <span>prison.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This isn’t a hospital, it’s a cage and we’re the lab mice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I’m trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>change,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Edward,” Bruce urged, clenching his fists underneath the table. “I want what you want: a real hospital for the mentally ill. None of you should be tortured like this, even when taking all of your... past choices... into account.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edward’s face was impassive and he closed his eyes for a moment. “Riddle me this, Bruce - what do you have to keep after giving it to someone else?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! So promise me that you won’t abandon us,” said Edward. “That none of this is just an act for woke points from the media.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise that I won’t give up on you. On </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even on patients like the Joker?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to keep your word, Bruce.” Edward’s tone was serious, narrowing his hazel eyes as he scrutinized Bruce’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Leland cleared her throat to draw their attention. “We have five minutes left. Edward, weren’t you talking about having new books in the rec room a few days ago?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, where do I begin!” he groaned. Upon seeing the confused look on Bruce’s face, he sighed and began to explain. “There’s a shelf of books in the rec room that acts as a less than mediocre library and the books are so used that you can’t even read them. Pages are missing, the covers are torn, and most of them are </span>
  <em>
    <span>donated children’s books.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don't know how much longer I can handle reading </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Berenstain Bears!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> <span>Bruce nodded as he absorbed every word that came out of Edward’s mouth. “What sort of books would you like to have in the rec room?”</span></p><p>
  <span>“I’ve heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>plenty</span>
  </em>
  <span> of good things about Rick Riordan’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Percy Jackson</span>
  </em>
  <span> series. Get Lewis Carroll’s books for Jervis, he hasn’t read a book about Alice in over a year. Brain teasers for me, I need something to keep me busy. Those God-awful joke books for the Joker. Maybe some gardening magazines for Pamela. Are you getting this, Mr. Wayne?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course. Keep going,” Bruce said with a wave of his hand. He had a small notepad and was jotting down notes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edward, having his arms restrained inside of his straitjacket, chewed his bottom lip as he thought about it. “Waylon likes French literature. Jonathan likes horror novels so get a few Stephen King books, preferably </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Shining</span>
  </em>
  <span> or </span>
  <em>
    <span>IT. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harvey loves to read up on law books. Oswald -” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Leland spoke up. “Edward, I think this is a good starting point for Mr. Wayne to work with. We wouldn’t want to overload him on the first day, would we?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s quite alright, Dr. Leland,” Bruce said with a reassuring grin and a dismissive wave. They heard Lee bang on the door to let them know that their time was up. “Well, Edward, it’s been a pleasure to talk to you. I’m afraid that I have to go, though. We’ll see each other next week, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember, Bruce - you made a promise to us!” Edward shouted as Bruce went out the door. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>A week had passed since Bruce Wayne had spoken to Edward, and during that time he replaced every old book in Arkham. He bought everything that Edward had mentioned from a small bookstore downtown. His purchase gave the shopkeeper, who was recently having a lot of financial troubles to keep the store open, enough money to last for half a year. Bruce received a very heartwarming letter in his mail later that day. After Bruce packed the books into a box labelled “Arkham Books”, he decided to call a family meeting to see how his adopted children were doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Barbara and I have tracked down the missing file pages,” Tim said as he set a packet of papers onto a table. “Evidence on funding illegal deforestation sites in the Amazon River basin, slaves working in plantations, illegal dumping of toxic waste in the Amazon River. It’s actually disgusting that they’ve gotten away with this kinda shit for almost a decade now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Tim. I’ll have a look at those papers later today,” said Bruce. His gaze shifted onto Dick. “Did you track down Poison Ivy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s currently near Knoxville, Tennessee,” he replied. “Must’ve thought that travelling by foot would’ve made her less conspicuous.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to follow her once this meeting is adjourned.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick nodded, though he looked concerned. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that we haven’t seen any sign of the Joker yet? He could be planning something way out of our league. I really think that you should take a break from Arkham and find out what he’s up to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dick’s right. We should track that clown down and put him in Arkham,” added Tim. “At least he’d become part of your program.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a trial experiment,” corrected Bruce. “It wouldn’t be wise to include the Joker so early. If he were to break out and kill during the experiment, then the Warden will shut it down. I can’t risk that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about the other inmates? What if </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> break loose and kill?” Jason demanded, skeptically raising an eyebrow at Bruce. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is why Dr. Thompkins and I have agreed to only include the Riddler and Mr. Freeze for the first few weeks. If they break out, there’s a low chance that they would go on a murder spree like the other patients.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds like a load of horseshit, Bruce,” Jason rebuked. “It doesn’t matter how high or low the chance is. They will still murder if they have to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If this experiment works, that low chance will eventually decrease to zero! Nothing that you say or do will change my mind on this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists as he reluctantly submitted. “Don’t... don’t come to us when it turns out that you’ve fallen off your high horse.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce continued. “You know what your assignments are. This family meeting is adjourned. We’ll regroup and discuss our progress in a week.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason is the first one to leave followed by Tim and Barbara. Dick lingered for a moment, sparing a glance toward Bruce before he left. He caught up with Jason and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch</span>
  </em>
  <span> me - oh, it’s you,” mumbled Jason. “Are you going to tell me that I need to calm down?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Dick replied with a warm smile. “If you need to talk about anything, we’re always ready to listen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason mulled it over for a moment and sighed. “I’m gonna go see what Alfred’s up to. You guys go ahead and do what you have to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara moved to Dick’s side and slowly shook her head in disappointment. “I worry about him, sometimes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” said Dick. “So do I.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Vines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>After a while of procrastination and doing schoolwork at home, I finally finished the fourth chapter!!</p><p>Edit: I fixed the second portion due to a continuity error.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harley Quinn woke up with a startled gasp, shooting upright and immediately clutching her stomach. She felt her fingertips brush over the soft sensation of cotton and looked down to find that she was wearing a patient gown. Her eyes trailed down the length of her forearm and found the end of an IV tube attached to her inner elbow. </p><p>“What the fuck...” she muttered to herself as she looked around. There were three other hospital beds to her right, each with their own set of equipment. They were empty, neatly prepared and ready for new patients. </p><p>Harley glanced to the entrance. The wooden door was open but there wasn’t anyone around. She pulled the IV needle out with a grimace and swung her feet over the side of the bed. The hairs on the back of her neck raised when her bare feet made contact with the cold linoleum floor. She placed her right foot in front, welcoming the cold sensation as she walked. She approached a plastic chair that sat in the corner of the room, finding her clothes neatly folded on top. </p><p>Harley slipped out of the hospital gown and began pulling her clothes on. Before she put on the top part of her outfit, she delicately ran her fingers along the red, flared skin on her abdomen. She hissed at the touch and jerked her hand back. Carefully, she pulled her top over her chest and smoothed out the wrinkles before slipping her red and black socks and Chuck Taylor shoes on. Harley walked quietly toward the door and stepped out into the bright hallway. </p><p>“I wouldn’t leave so soon if I were you,” a voice called out behind her before she could leave. Startled, Harley turned around to see who spoke. The sight of Selina Kyle sitting with one leg crossed over the other as she sat in a chair just outside of the room calmed her down. </p><p>“Jesus, Selina! You almost gave me a heart attack!” she sighed, clutching her chest. “What are you doing here? I thought you were outta town on some sorta quest of self-worthiness.” </p><p>“Yeah, well...” Selina shrugged. “It wasn’t worth the time nor the money. I came back to Gotham yesterday and wanted to find Ivy but she was gone. I went to look for you but when I came to the Joker’s hideout, I saw you lying on the floor. There was blood everywhere, so I picked you up and brought you here.” </p><p>“About that... What happened to me? The last thing I remember before I blacked out was talking to the Joker...”</p><p>Selina frowned and stood up. “I think he was the person who shot you.” </p><p>Harley’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, I remember now! I saw the end of his pistol against my stomach and heard a bang before I went unconscious!” </p><p>“You also had this on your body when I found you.” Selina held up a yellow sticky note that was stained with dried blood. “The number twelve doesn’t make sense, but then again, neither does the Joker. I’ll give it to Batman later so he can figure it out.”</p><p>“Where’s that two-timing clown, anyway?” demanded Harley. “I’m gonna put my boot so far up his ass, he’ll be shitting rubber for the next week!” </p><p>“I don’t know,” Selina answered, shaking her head slowly. “Batman will figure that out, too. Meanwhile, you need to stay here. You lost a lot of blood and that wound still needs to heal.” </p><p>Harley gave a single, hearty laugh. “What I need to do is hunt that pasty-faced clown down and bust his kneecaps!” </p><p>“You are in no condition to bust kneecaps right now, Harley. You need to rest and let your body recover.” </p><p>“I’ve survived worse,” Harley scoffed. “I fell out of a window, remember?” </p><p>“You were <em> pushed </em> out of a window, almost three stories high,” Selina corrected. “And you were recovering for two weeks.” </p><p>“Like I said, I’ve survived worse.” </p><p>“Harley! I insist that you stay in that room for the next few days!” yelled Selina.</p><p>Harley narrowed her eyes. “And what are you gonna do if I don’t?” </p><p>“I won’t buy you the diamond encrusted sculpture of a leopard that you’ve been wanting.” Selina crossed her arms and tilted her head up as she stared Harley in the eye. </p><p>“You mean <em> that </em> diamond encrusted leopard? The one whose eyes are giant rubies?” Harley asked, her eyes widened and her hands clenched into fists. </p><p>“Yup, and you’ll get it if you’re a good girl and let your wounds heal,” said Selina. </p><p>Harley tapped her chin as she thought it over. “The diamond encrusted leopard sounds nice, but kicking the Joker’s ass sounds even <em> better!”  </em></p><p>She turned away from Selina and ran, the soles of her shoes clacking on the linoleum tiles down the hallway. The pain in her side flared up immediately but she ignored it, pushing herself to run faster. She swerved around doctors, nurses, and patients that were being wheeled down the hallway. </p><p>Selina wasn’t too far behind, running with a determined gleam in her hazel eyes. She was like the cats that followed her around in the dead of night, her feet barely making a sound as she sprinted after Harley. “Harley, get over here right now!” </p><p>Harley looked back and stuck out her tongue, laughing mockingly. “Run, run, as fast as you can! You’ll never catch me, I’m- agh!” She crashed head first into a door after it swung open and fell on her back. Dazed, she looked up and saw Selina leaning over her. </p><p>“What was that you were saying back there?” she asked, giving a smug grin. </p><p>“Alright, you caught me…” Harley sighed, holding her hand out. </p><p>“Actually, the door caught you,” Selina chuckled, grabbing Harley’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “I guess we know not to run away now?” </p><p>Harley dusted off her clothes and sighed. “Yeah, yeah… No need to rub it in.” </p><p>“Are you going to listen to me now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Harley. “It’ll only be a few days of rest. The least you could do is go home and binge Netflix.” </p><p>Harley laughed and immediately winced in pain. She looked down and saw that the stitches in her side had ripped and tore her wound open. “I suppose you’re right…” </p><p>Selina sighed. “Come on, Harley. Let’s go get you patched up again.” </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was in the cool of the evening that the Joker became more active in his insane schemes. He had already left an anonymous tip to the GCPD for both the murder of Ms. Wilson and Harley Quinn. He needed Batman to know, he needed him to hurry and incapacitate him like so many times before. The Joker yearned for the bruises and broken bones, for Batman to stare at him with burning hatred, hatred that was only meant for <em> him. </em> </p><p>He had committed two murders in that hour alone, stringing their bodies in humorous positions that sent him cackling with delight. The clown pinned more sticky notes to their bodies, writing the numbers in the order that he killed. 15, 22. He almost forgot to restrain himself when he saw the mother of the second victim run outside. </p><p><em> Next time, </em> he thought. <em> You’re done for today. </em> </p><p>The Joker thought he should leave an anonymous tip to the Gotham City Police Department, then decided against it. Let them find it on their own time, he's already given them the push they needed. He’ll probably lay low on top of a roof for a few hours, just to make sure. </p><p>“Waiting is a dangerous game, Batman,” Joker muttered to himself as he peered down at the streets. “Why aren’t you coming?” </p><p>“Because he’s busy,” a familiar voice said behind him. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure it’s as fun for you as it is for me.”</p><p>The Joker perked when he heard who was speaking and slowly turned his head, red lips stretched into an uncanny smile. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you after our little playdate, Boy Blunder.” </p><p>Jason stood behind him with an empty expression underneath his mask. He was holding a crowbar by his side. It had spots of rust and small dents but was otherwise fine. “Yeah? Well times have changed.” Then he swung the crowbar at the clown’s face, forcing him to hit the roof as he became dazed.</p><p>The Joker could feel what was happening. He could feel everything but he couldn’t see. His vision was blurred, focusing in and out of reality with each blow to the chest and back. </p><p>He laughed through it all, albeit he felt an intense burning pain in his lungs. He thought one or two of his ribs must have cracked. The Joker chuckled at that.</p><p>Jason grit his teeth and forced all his strength into his swings. "This is for Batgirl! This is for me! This is for all the pain and suffering you've given everyone!" </p><p>He threw the crowbar down and balled his hands into fists. The clown looked up at him with a bloody grin, crimson covering his pale white face in splatters and blotches. His nose dripped with blood and Jason couldn’t tell if that was his lipstick or his blood covering his lips. “What, don’t have the balls? Batman getting to you after all these years?” </p><p>Jason twisted his face in disgust. “No. I’m just proving that I won’t hesitate to kill you.” </p><p>“So now what?” </p><p>“I’m going to throw you back into Arkham. Everybody misses you and wants to throw a welcoming party,” Jason answered sarcastically as he grabbed the Joker by his collar and yanked him onto his feet. </p><p>“Hey! That’s something reserved for only my bat in shining armor,” Joker complained, crossing his arms over his chest as Jason dragged him along. Jason gagged and grimaced at the clown. </p><p>“What possible reason did you need to say it like that for?” he asked. The Joker shrugged and gave an innocent grin that was still menacing. “Whatever. You’re going to wait here while I contact Batgirl and you’re going to shut your mouth.” </p><p>The clown put his index and thumb together and moved his hand along his mouth, imitating the pulling of a zipper. Jason grumbled under his breath and pressed the button on his earpiece. “Babs… I caught the Joker near the Gotham City Public Library… Come down here so I can take him to Arkham while you find out who he killed.” </p><p>He looked back to the Joker. “Arkham may not be ready for you to join their silly therapy session but they still have your cell in Extreme Isolation. Frankly, that’s what I’d prefer.” </p><p>“Oh, you mean Bruce Wayne’s little kiddie experiment?” Joker giggled. “I’ve heard of it. Sounds like a good mix in the ol’ routine for me to fuck with.” </p><p>“And that is exactly why Bruce Wayne shouldn’t put you in the program,” Jason said. “All you do is hurt people and laugh like it’s nothing.” </p><p>“That’s because it <em> is </em> nothing,” he retorted, earning a backhand to his face. </p><p>“I don’t want to hear anymore from you until Batgirl gets here!” Jason shouted, pointing at the clown. “Now shut the fuck up and just stand there, you piece of shit.” </p><p>“You should really work on your anger issues,” the Joker chirped. “You’re starting to sound like Batman.” </p><p>Jason clenched his hand and restrained himself from hitting the clown more. “Don’t <em> ever </em> compare me to Batman.”</p><p>The Joker’s grin widened, realizing that he found yet another sore spot. “I bet it eats you up that you’ll never be able to make him proud of you again.” </p><p>Jason’s willpower was about to break until he heard Barbara call his name from on the street. He leaned over the ledge and breathed a sigh of relief. “Want me to throw him down? I promise the street will break his fall.” </p><p>“Nah, just drag him down!” she replied. </p><p>“Alright, fine,” he grumbled, clamping his hand around the Joker’s neck and shoving him as they came onto the street. Jason threw the clown onto the pavement and pinned him on the small of his back with his heavy boot. </p><p>“You alright?” Barbara asked. </p><p>Jason glanced around and shrugged. “Never better.” </p><p>She sighed and briefly looked down at the Joker. “I can take him to Arkham, if that’s alright with you.” </p><p>“Nah…” Jason said nonchalantly. “I think I can do it.” </p><p>She gave a small smile at Jason’s growing confidence. “Where are the bodies?” </p><p>The Joker gasped out a laugh when he felt Jason press his foot harder on his back. “I put them in the alley…”</p><p>Barbara nodded and said, “You can go now. I’ll probably be here for twenty minutes.” </p><p>Jason grabbed Joker’s collar and pulled him up. “Mind if I borrow your bike?” </p><p>She waved her hand in response as she walked away and Jason pulled the clown toward the motorcycle. He bound the Joker’s hands behind his back and strapped him down. Then Jason put on her helmet and sat down, revving the bike and driving off.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Weeds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter contains content that may be triggering towards survivors of sexual assault and rape, so please skip over this chapter if you cannot read content like that. These scenes should not be gushed over or romanticized, this is a serious aspect of what goes on in Arkham and how the staff takes advantage and abuse the patients. That being said, please do not go to the comments about how it's problematic. However, you CAN talk about how Charles will be killed off soon because that will happen.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few days had passed since Jason brought the Joker to Arkham Asylum. After the guards had thrown the clown back into his old cell, Jason called Jim Gordon so they could interrogate the Joker. When they hit a dead end with that, Jason turned to Bruce. </p><p>“I don’t care if you’re busy, the Joker is finally back in Arkham and there are three murders that are still under investigation,” Jason growled as he followed Bruce down into the Batcave. “You’ve been sitting down here the entire time while we’ve been doing everything!” </p><p>“This is important, Jason!” Bruce snapped as he wheeled around to face his adopted son. </p><p>“And we’re <em> not?” </em> Jason retorted. </p><p>“No, that isn’t what I-” </p><p>“Yeah, I know what you meant,” he said, glaring at Bruce. “Dick has been trailing Ivy since our family meeting, Tim and I have been investigating Octane, Barbara’s helping her dad with the murder investigations. What have you been doing? Buying fantasy novels and textbooks.” </p><p>“What do you want me to do, Jason?” Bruce asked, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “I’ve been rotating between helping Leslie and the patients.” </p><p>“I want you to stop acting as Bruce Wayne and start being Batman. Figure out what Joker’s planning,” Jason answered. “Do you know what he’s doing? He’s been leaving cryptic sticky-note messages on the bodies of his victims.” </p><p>Bruce stayed silent as Jason talked, though he mulled over what Jason said in his mind. He’s right, even if Bruce doesn’t want to admit it. Finding out what Joker’s doing is just as important as his work with Dr. Thompkins. He sighed and placed his hands on his hips, meeting Jason’s blue eyes. “I’ll go see Commissioner Gordon.” </p><p>Bruce arrived at the GCPD later that night wearing his standard Batsuit. Jim was outside, standing on the rooftop as he looked out into the city with a cigar in his hand. His back was facing Bruce and he didn’t seem to notice he was there. </p><p>“Commissioner,” Bruce said to announce his presence. </p><p>By now, Jim had become accustomed to hearing the deep gruffness of Batman’s voice. He turned around to face Bruce and said, “I was wondering if you were ever going to sneak up behind me again.” </p><p>Bruce kept an expressionless face even though he wanted to chuckle at the joke. “How much did you find out about the murders?” </p><p>“We deduced their identities,” Jim answered, taking a long inhale of his cigar. “We’ve got their bodies in the morgue currently.” </p><p>“Any news concerning the Joker?” </p><p>“No, that bastard hasn’t said anything useful since we put him in Arkham,” Jim sighed, turning to look at the city. “All he talks about is you.” </p><p>“He won’t open up to anyone unless I’m involved,” Bruce said. “Even then, it’s difficult to get a straight answer from him.”</p><p>"You can say that again," Jim chuckled, looking back to Bruce. He sighed when he saw that Bruce was gone. "I guess some things never change."</p><p>Bruce had gone inside the GCPD station, planning to find Barbara and examine those strange notes that the Joker made. He found her standing in the evidence room, looking over the three sticky-notes at a table in the back. Barbara’s back was facing him as he approached her. He could see several sheets of paper that have been crushed into balls scattered on the desk and floor. </p><p>“Long night, Barb?” Bruce asked.</p><p>Barbara looked up and turned around suddenly, moving her ginger hair out of her eyes and smiling at Bruce. “Hey…” When he didn’t reply, she continued. “Uh, yeah… I’m just trying to figure out what kind of pattern the Joker’s using with these notes.” </p><p>“Any luck?”</p><p>Barbara waved her hands sporadically and shook her head. “I can’t seem to find anything. I’ve tried rearranging them in ascending order, descending order, adding them…” </p><p>“Slow down,” Bruce said, placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. “Maybe don’t focus on the numbers themselves. Try converting them into another symbol.” </p><p>Her eyes widened as the gears in her mind turned and she grinned at him. “I can convert the numbers into the letters of the alphabet.” </p><p>Bruce returned the smile, although it was barely noticeable. “See how that works.” </p><p>She nodded, though she didn’t turn around to continue working. “Are you gonna sit down? Haven’t really been able to talk to you like this for a while.” </p><p>“I have to go to the morgue. I need the victims’ autopsy reports.” </p><p>Barbara frowned slightly. “Does it have to be right now?” </p><p>“I need to gather as much information as possible before the Joker can do anything,” he answered, turning to leave. </p><p>“Okay…” </p><p>Barbara watched him leave and then turned back to the table, clearing away the crumpled paper balls and tearing off a blank sheet from her notebook. </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The red light next to the steel-reinforced door flashed green as the guard slid his keycard down the lock and he pushed it open. He went through the door and turned to swipe his card again, this time locking it when he closed the door. As he walked down the hallway, he saw another guard making his rounds. </p><p>"Charles,” the other man said, giving a short wave. </p><p>“Dale,” Charles replied, tipping his hat and continuing on his path. He walked by more cells and came to another door, this one more bulky and tough than the others. There were two guards stationed in front of it, dressed in full riot gear and brandishing assault rifles. </p><p>“How goes it, boys?” Charles asked as he approached them. </p><p>“Just peachy. Had to throw Two-Face into solitary after he nearly bit John's nose off,” one of them laughed. “Making your rounds through Intensive Treatment again, Charles?” </p><p>“Yes, sir. Keep up the good work,” he answered as he pulled his card out and swiped it at the lock, red light flashing green and the bulky doors sliding apart. He paused to wait for them to close after he passed through, then continued on his route. He eyed each patients’ cell he passed, glancing at the names plastered on the front. He stopped when he came upon the Joker's cell. </p><p>Joker’s sleeping body was his welcoming present as he opened the door to Joker's cell. Even in sleep, the clown smiled. Charles shuddered at that. After a moment of staring at the Joker, Charles slowly approached him, holding his breath as he came closer so he wouldn’t startle the clown awake. The Joker’s body barely moved, not even a twitch. Charles swallowed, a hard lump forming in his throat as he stood in front of the clown and knelt down. </p><p>His hand was shaky as he reached out to touch the Joker, expecting him to suddenly wake up and bite his fingers off as he snapped his fingers in front of the clown’s face. He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t feel the intense pain of flesh and bone being ripped from away. That tranquilizer the doctors gave him must be pretty strong. Charles relaxed with a chuckle and gently ran his fingers through the clown’s hair. </p><p>He leaned over, relishing in the scent of Joker’s hair before licking up his face with a broad stroke of his tongue. He moved his hand down the Joker’s side, stopping at the hem of the white sweatpants the patients have to wear. Charles hooked his fingers around it and slowly tugged them down, biting his lip as the Joker’s ass gradually came into view. </p><p>Charles inserted two fingers into his mouth and sucked them for a few seconds before pushing them into Joker's tight hole. He gave a perverted grin as the Joker stayed completely still while he curled his fingers and he unstrapped his belt, pulling his pants down halfway. He grinded himself between the Joker's cheeks for a few minutes before spreading them apart and pushing it inside until he could go no further. He thrusted his hips at a fast pace, knowing he only had a limited amount of time here. The sound of skin slapping against skin was only heard inside the cell. Charles bit his lip as he felt his orgasm coming and plunged deep inside of the clown upon his release.</p><p>Charles withdrew and wiped his cock on the Joker’s sheet before zipping his pants. He cracked the cell door open and gave a wary glance both ways down the hallway before leaving like nothing had happened. As he passed through the door, the two guards greeted him again. </p><p>“All good?” one of them asked. </p><p>“Good as it’s gonna get,” Charles answered with a knowing smirk. </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Barbara had called Bruce the next day, early in the afternoon as he was looking over the autopsy reports at the Batcomputer. “Bruce, I translated the numbers into letters but it still doesn’t make sense.” </p><p>“Lay it on me, Barb,” Bruce said absentmindedly while he flipped through papers. </p><p>“The letters are I, O, and V in alphabetical order,” she answered. “I don’t know what they could mean now but I have a hunch that the Joker is trying to spell a sentence with each body he adds to the list.” </p><p>Bruce’s eyes widened and he looked up in realization. “It’s the order that he kills…” </p><p>“That doesn’t make sense, though. No word or sentence starts as I-O-V.” </p><p>“Because there’s a missing body…” Bruce muttered as he closed each file and ran his fingers through his black hair. </p><p>“There were no other deaths reported in the last week.” </p><p>Bruce’s eyes flickered as he thought and clenched his jaw. He heard Alfred’s footsteps approaching and said, “Barbara, I’ll call you back.” </p><p>Alfred was carrying a silver platter that held a mug of freshly brewed coffee and a plate with a sandwich on it. “Just thought I’d prepare you a snack before you go out, Master Bruce.” </p><p>Bruce gave him a smile and grabbed the cup of coffee, blowing a gust of air at the steam before sipping it. “Thank you, Alfred.” </p><p>“Miss Kyle called earlier,” Alfred said as he set the tray down. “She said it’s imperative that you call her back as soon as you can.” </p><p>Bruce nodded and went upstairs, carrying his cup of coffee with him as he went to the phone. He dialed Selina’s cell phone number and waited as he listened to it ring. “Come on, Selina…” </p><p>“Hello?” she asked on the other end. </p><p>“Selina, it’s me,” he said. “Bruce.” </p><p>“Bruce? Jesus, I haven’t heard from you since we broke up and you started that weird experiment in Arkham.” </p><p>“Never mind that. You said you had something to tell me.” </p><p>“Always straight to the point,” Selina sighed. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to ask how I’m doing once in a while.”</p><p>“Selina…” </p><p>“I’m just kidding,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. Not like it mattered since Bruce couldn’t see. “I was calling to tell you that the Joker tried to kill Harley again and left this weird note with her. Any idea what he’s doing?” </p><p>Bruce nearly dropped his mug onto the floor and cursed under his breath as he spilled some coffee. “What number is written on it?” </p><p>“How do you know it-” </p><p>“What is the number?” he repeated urgently as he went to get a towel. </p><p>“Twelve,” she answered. </p><p>“When was Harley attacked?” </p><p>“The day before I came back to Gotham,” she said. “I found her lying in a pool of her own blood and I took her to the hospital. She’s healed up pretty good by now.” </p><p>Bruce nodded and he wiped the floor with the towel. “I’m gonna have to talk to you later, Selina. Goodnight.” </p><p>“Uh, goodnight…” </p><p>Bruce hung up and dialed Barbara’s number. “Barbara, I found the missing person. Harley had one of Joker’s notes. It seems she’s the second person that was attacked.” </p><p>“What’s the number?” she asked. </p><p>“Twelve, which is the letter L.” </p><p>“I-L-O-V,” she said. “I think I’m getting an idea on what this message is supposed to be…”  </p><p>“So do I, and I don’t like it.” </p>
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